


straw temple

by Anonymous



Category: Shaman King (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mankin Valentines Week 2021
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:48:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29322684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Ren has never needed reverence. He needs someone who has seen underneath his crumbling exterior, and still wants to stay.[Mankin Valentines Week Day 1: First Time]
Relationships: Asakura Yoh/Tao Ren
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5
Collections: anonymous





	straw temple

**Author's Note:**

> characters are 18+
> 
> fair warning for unrealistic sex anatomy/abo physics

It’s too warm. 

The lights are out, and Ren is writhing in his bed, trying to distract himself from the burn under his skin. It just won’t leave, and if it goes on for longer it might turn suffocating.

The unbearable heat hurts, sweeping over every pulse point straight to the crown of his head, and more embarrassingly, his stomach. There’s an aching, empty feeling in his gut, a desire to be full, to be filled, to-

Ren twists, squeezing his eyes shut. He’s gotten through this before, but the unquenchable thirst is always so overpowering, demanding Ren give in. It never gets easier.

It doesn’t matter. He can ignore it, albeit while enduring a lot of misery. This kind of want is all-encompassing, continuous until Ren can abate it, but there’s no one coming; he’s alone, and he’ll be damned before he gives in.

Everyone thinks he’s sick. What he’s going through is of the same coin, weak limbs and dizzying spells that leave him reeling, unable to tell up from down. He hates acknowledging it, despises even the thought of giving it a name. He can control himself. It’s just a little pain. A little agonizing. A little emptiness that grows more hollow the longer it goes on.

“Ren?”

He doesn’t think it’s been long enough for him to grow delirious, but he’s hallucinating now, hearing voices that aren’t there. He wants this to be over so badly, but there’s no end in sight, no respite he can put faith in.

“Ren?”

It sounds like Yoh. It’s always Yoh who sees him at his worst, bright eyes and non-judgemental smile. Yoh in his entirety is something Ren lacks cripplingly, a pitiable dependency that only surfaces when he’s nothing but a bundle of oversensitive nerves. 

And then there’s light filtering into the room.

He’s never had visual hallucinations before, and he squints at the doorway, the glow lighting his face, filtering into his eyes, and — _no._

“Jun said you were sick,” Yoh says, standing at the doorway, looking at Ren’s figure curled up on the bed. “Are you—”

_No._

He shouldn’t be here. He doesn’t know. 

“Oh,” Yoh says softly, the sound setting fire to Ren’s veins. There’s unmistakeable realization in his tone, a tell-tale sign that he’s realized what kind of sickness Ren has.

“Get out,” Ren says, panic flaring into hysteria. He’s reduced to nothing like this, when he can’t control what he wants, what he says and does. 

If Yoh sees him, straight to the core, there’ll be nothing left. Every layer he’s used to build himself with, every wall and fortifying defense he has, is ash and dust if Yoh sees what he’s made of at the foundation. 

“Ren,” Yoh coaxes, coming closer. He smells earthy, like birchwood and the leafy undergrowth of the Tao family garden. But that’s not what has Ren keening, trying to fight the swell in his gut. Yoh has never been the strongest, the most aggressive, but that doesn’t matter. Ren has plenty of spark on his own, and he’s never wanted anyone else.

“It’s okay,” Yoh says soothingly, hand cold as he pats Ren’s cheek. 

_Yoh,_ Ren thinks, leaning into it like a starved animal. He can’t pull away, pressing his face against Yoh’s hold, trying to move closer. 

Yoh hovers by the bedside, crouched down so their faces are level.

“I’ll get out,” he whispers, kind, everything Ren dreams of having someday. “It’s okay,” he reassures again, smoothing back Ren’s matted hair. “I won’t tell.”

But Ren has never been kind, and if he can’t have it himself, the best he can do is share. He’s not brave enough to tell Yoh how much it matters that he’s here, because he’s always been a coward. Ren has never been able to say the things that matter when he’s thinking straight. 

Yoh pauses when Ren grabs his arm, nails digging into the skin. “If you’re here,” Ren grits out, “then _help_.” It sounds haughty, and inside Ren’s heart is beating against his ribcage, terrified that at his lowest point, Yoh will turn away.

But he doesn’t, hands sliding down to pull Ren upright by the elbows. Ren is maneuvered humiliatingly easily, boneless from fighting himself. 

“You sure?” he asks, and smiles when Ren glares.

“Get on with it,” he snaps, letting out a choked sound when Yoh pulls him into his lap, hand cradling Ren’s head to his shoulder.

His fingers tighten, fisting the cool fabric of Yoh’s shirt. He’s drooling as Yoh runs a soothing hand across his back, and it’s not enough.

“What do you want me to do?” Yoh asks, lips too close to Ren’s ear. 

Ren shudders, frustrated, because Yoh must read it on his face, must be able to tell from the way Ren is shaking all over. 

“Do _something_ ,” he says, and almost sobs when Yoh kisses him.

He can’t breathe, tears stinging his skin, the tips of his fingers burning where they’re clasped around Yoh’s neck. His hips jerk uncontrollably, but he’s feeling too shameless to hide how much he wants it, and Yoh feels too right to even try.

“It’s okay,” Yoh murmurs, fingers tickling the base of his spine, thumb pressing the point where his back meets his hips, and Ren jolts like he’s been shot. “I’ve got you,” Yoh says, soothing Ren through the pleasure-hazed spasming.

He’s dripping, wet between the thighs, soaking the mattress and the fabric of Yoh’s slacks. He flinches when Yoh moves to leave, voice cracking as he scrambles to pull him back.

“It’s okay,” Yoh says softly as Ren clings desperately. “I’m not leaving.” There’s an edge of a laugh in his throat, but Ren is too far gone to be annoyed by it.

He’s hard and aching, that pressure in his stomach tripling, that itch yearning for any kind of friction. Yoh kneels on the floor, spreads Ren’s legs, and takes him down to the hilt with his mouth.

_Oh._

It’s too much. Too much. Wet and filthy, sparking down his chest and between his legs. He’s uncontrollable, so scared as he reaches for Yoh, to make sure he’s real and touchable. 

He is, looking up at him, eyes dark as he takes Ren to the hilt. The wave builds too fast, too good as it wraps around Ren’s spine, body seizing as it crests and crashes-

Yoh pulls away. Ren lets out an unrestrained scream of frustration as the feeling boils back down to a simmer. It’s not enough, it’s not enough, and he bucks his hips up, chasing after something, anything. 

“Come _on_ ,” Ren goads, but it doesn’t sound confident at all. He sounds small and hopeless, so close to the edge.

Yoh kisses the inside of Ren’s thigh, an underwhelming tickle. “What do you want?” There’s the edge of a laugh in the question, and _God,_ he knows what he’s doing. 

And if Ren was braver, he’d say ‘you’ in every sense of the word. But he’s been molded to be brittle on the outside, to never let anyone in, and he’s terrified of what will happen when Yoh owns every part of him.

“In me,” he whimpers, almost begging. “In me.” He presses two fingers under his belly button, pointing to where the itch won’t subside.

He’s never done this before, but he’s heard so much about it, from spirits lost in purgatory, from people on the train who don’t speak softly enough. Yoh must know too, because his hands are light as they ghost over where Ren is wet and open and wanting, and pushes a finger in up to the knuckle.

Ren kicks his legs out reflexively, hoping if he squeezes his eyes shut long enough the blinking stars will be gone when he opens them. “Move,” he begs, and Yoh complies. Ren tries to match the steady stroke of his hands, but Yoh presses his hips down in answer, keeping him down. 

It doesn’t make sense. Ren should be stronger, but he’s unable to do anything but twitch and tremble under the iron grip, hands pushing at Yoh’s forearms weakly.

“You’ll hurt yourself,” Yoh coaxes, attempting to appease him.

“I don’t _c_ _are_ ,” Ren says, and howls when Yoh presses right where he needs it most. “Do it. Do it,” he orders, though the quiver in his voice does nothing to make it sound as absolute as he wants it to.

Yoh stands, knees knocking against the bed as he pulls Ren closer, pressing his hips to Ren’s thighs. 

_Come on come on come on,_ Ren thinks as Yoh starts to push in, and it takes everything in him to not snap his hips and take him in one go. He’s drawn tight like a wire, every limb weak as he presses his face to the mattress and pants. 

Just when he opens his mouth to beg again, Yoh bottoms out, and finally, everything is right. Yoh pulls back, pushes in slower, then faster, and Ren is back at the edge, trying to fight the overwhelming feel of it. How long has he wanted this? Too long, but it doesn’t matter. He has it now.

They’ve been going on for too long for either of them to last. Yoh is scratching the itch, dragging over it again and again until Ren is spilling all over himself, wailing. He doesn’t care how loud he’s being, hiccuping as Yoh keeps moving, and Ren knows he’s close when he tenses and folds over to join Ren on the bed. 

He’s never needed reverence. Not even from Yoh, who would actually add weight to the worship. He needs someone who has seen underneath his crumbling exterior, and still wants to stay. 

Yoh moves to pull out, and Ren tightens his thighs in answer. He’s not ready to feel empty yet, to be cold when Yoh is so intoxicatingly warm. “No,” he murmurs petulantly, feels Yoh laugh against his ribcage, feels himself growing wet again.

Yoh twitches inside him. “Again?” he asks disbelievingly, and placatingly kisses Ren’s answering scowl away. He’s smiling when he rolls them over and starts moving again.   
  



End file.
